


The Healing Power of Pancakes

by hobofaerie



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Comfort, Midnight Snacks Cure Everything, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobofaerie/pseuds/hobofaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sora is always there for Riku, no matter what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Healing Power of Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my fanfiction.net account (mistyeyedreamer) in February of 2010, and while it's not quite up to the standards of my current writing, I like it enough that I decided to port it over anyway, since I use AO3 far more often.
> 
> This is hypothetically set between the events of II and 3D, and whether one wants to view it as romantic love/caring for an individual is really entirely up to the reader.

Hoards of shadows surrounded Riku, seemingly never ending. No matter how many times his Soul Eater flashed and ripped through the Heartless, their bodies scattering into smoke, they just kept coming. He couldn’t count the wounds he’d received; could barely feel them in the heat of battle. Only knew he was injured at all by the red tinting his silver bangs, stickier than the sweat running down his face but just as salty.

“You cannot continue,” sounded a Voice, echoing from everywhere in the surrounding darkness. “Not forever. Sooner or later, you’ll be overcome. Either by this darkness…or your own.”

_Shut up_ , thought Riku, though he stayed silent, still caught up in the Heartless’ dance. Kill after kill, the hearts floating up above him casting the only light aside from the Shadow’s glowing eyes. But the Voice had spoken the truth. His arms were becoming leaden, each swing of the sword slower and less powerful than the one before.

And still the Shadows came.

And they swarmed him.

One snuck past his defenses to jump on his back, clawing at any exposed skin before it lost its hold. Riku drew in a breath, hissing at the gouges on his neck he couldn’t attend to, before another swiped at his arm. His leg. His face, his stomach, his groin. But the one place he defended, the one place he refused to let them get to, was his heart. He wouldn’t let it be taken. Not after all he’d gone through. Not when he still had to find-

“You’re finished.” The Voice again. “You think the only thing that has been spilled is blood?” A blinding white light shone down from the ceiling, illuminating the space where Riku stood, chest heaving and flinching away from the sudden brightness but still readied to swing at the nearest Shadow. The Heartless hissed at the light, scurrying away but keeping to the edges, awaiting their chance to strike again.

Blood was everywhere. Drops stained the floor, smearing and staining the white a deep crimson. His arms were covered in bleeding scratches, none very deep but every one stinging like hell. The rest of him was in a similar state; clothes tattered, hair drenched in sweat. But…something was wrong.

Not _just_ blood was dripping from his wounds. Some of the newer ones…

Smoke. _Black_ smoke. It was rising from his arms, his legs, even his chest and shoulders. Riku’s eyes widened as he looked on with fear. Not fury, not hatred, not even desperation. Just pure, unadulterated _fear_.

“No,” he whispered, trying to scrub the wisps away, hoping above all hope that it was just leftover Heartless rising from his skin. Hoping, because this could _not_ be happening, no, he would _not_ allow it, he wouldn’t he wouldn’t _hewouldn’t_.

But it was.

“How ironic,” mocked the Voice, a hint of cruel amusement entering the tone that had, until now, been rather expressionless. “To think that you, so adamant about resisting the lure of darkness, have become the very thing you fear the most.”

The light shining down on him…it _burned_. Riku looked around desperately, but the circle of Shadows remained beyond the light’s reach, and hell be damned if he was going to flee back into _them_.

More smoke was gathering, rising from his wounds to coalesce into something more substantial, more solid. Looking down at his clothing, Riku saw the darkness spreading lazily through the tattered fabric like tendrils of inky black vines, wrapping gently around him.

There was no escape. The darkness…he was _becoming_ the darkness.

The threads of darkness reached his chest, still spreading but now beginning to constrict as they moved closer to his heart was.

Where his heart _should_ have been. Its thumping, so loud to him before, was slowing, quieting. Almost as if it was already gone.

“No!” cried Riku, tearing away the ruined shirt to find that the encroaching darkness was mirrored on his own bleeding skin. Eating away through his chest, searching out his heart. The heart that he’d tried so hard to fill with light.

His last word before he fell into the void was, “Sora…”

 

_Riku..._

 

_Riku?_

 

“RIKU!"

The frantic voice jolted Riku from his sleep, blankets twisted tightly around him, almost cutting off his circulation. He flailed around, attempting to disentangle himself from the sheets, before registering just _who_ that voice belonged to.

“S-Sora?” Riku whispered, eyes wide, before seeing the boy on his bed, outlined by the streetlights, and realizing that, yes, Sora was here on his bed and Riku was _not_ in Castle Oblivion; that they were together, safe in Riku’s room on the island. Heart pounding (and yes, it was _there_ , safe in his chest and thumping away fearfully), he finally escaped the tangle of blankets before drawing his best friend into a bone-crushing embrace. Sora held him, not caring that Riku was drenched in sweat and trembling and holding onto him hard enough to crack a rib. Didn’t remark on the strangeness of the elder boy being the one to lose control for once. He just held him, trailing fingers through Riku’s hair and murmuring indecipherable words, trying to comfort the boy.

“You were screaming,” said Sora softly. “I could hear you from my house – your window was open- and I was worried.”

“I dreamed that I’d lost you,” Riku mumbled into the sleeve of Sora’s oversized t-shirt, almost embarrassed to say but it was _Sora_ , dammit, and if anyone would understand, he would. “The Heartless…they were _everywhere_ , they…they just wouldn’t _stop_ , and I couldn’t find you, and the darkness…” Riku sighed and pulled away from Sora, still close enough to lean against him but no longer clinging. “Thanks for coming. Sorry for waking you up.”

“S’all right. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t, right?” asked Sora, yawning and planting a soft kiss on Riku’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it; it’s just a dream. I’m here, you’re here, you’re you and it’s all over. Right?” he asked, giving a dorky grin (even if there was still a hint of worry clouding the blue of his eyes). “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Sora teased. They sat there together for a while, nothing marring the comfortable silence except for the gentle lapping of the surf. Nothing needed to be said; Riku was content to lean there against Sora forever, and Sora was perfectly willing to stay. Just there, safe and peaceful and warm. But a rumble sounded, breaking the silence, and Sora chuckled, partially in embarrassment, at his wayward stomach that really had no sense of mood or timing. “Hey, I’m sorta hungry. Wanna go make some pancakes or something? We’ve got some mix back home, I’m pretty sure.”

Riku snorted, and the mood was truly gone. But he didn’t really mind; trust Sora to come up with food-related distractions. “Yeah. Sounds good, let’s go.”

The two of them snuck out Riku’s window (a skill perfected over the years that they never quite lost, even during their adventures away from the world), quietly making their way across the yard and next door to Sora’s house. Sora had spoken the truth; there was indeed pancake mix stashed in the pantry, and even maple syrup in the fridge (a miracle in itself, the way that Sora went through it). And maybe they woke Sora’s mom up at four in the morning by laughing and having a pancake fight and making too much noise along with their post-midnight snack, but that didn’t matter.

It was worth it.


End file.
